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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468349">Silver &amp; Steel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageTurner57/pseuds/PageTurner57'>PageTurner57</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Silver &amp; Steel [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers are bad, Dark!Avengers, Lycanthropes, Other, Succubus, Supernatural Creatures, The Witcher - Freeform, geralt kicks ass, sword fights</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:07:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageTurner57/pseuds/PageTurner57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He calls himself the White Wolf.</p>
<p>Three deadly strangers, have taken over the inn at a small village, demanding to see their reclusive mage. Hellbent on revenge, they use the villagers to force the mage to come out, but will he? Or will he stay in his tower and leave the villagers to the strangers?</p>
<p>Collette finds herself running from the blonde stranger, his howls following her through the woods until she stumbles into a small camp where a white-haired witcher and his loquacious and dramatic companion rest. Will he listen to her pleas to save her village from the silver-armed invader and his companions? Or will they perish at the cost of their revenge?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Silver &amp; Steel [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you for stopping by! As you can see, I'm absolutely terrible at summaries!<br/>Some warnings to be aware of: Sword fighting/combat violence, injuries, angst, swearing (come on, it's Geralt), the avengers aren't the good guys, sorry! A very brief insinuation of mind-controlled sexual contact (no descriptions), shape shifting, succubus, some badass fight scenes</p>
<p>I've never written for the Witcher and I've only ever seen the series on Netfix, so I'm hoping that I've captured him well! I've never written action sequences, so I sincerely hope I've done them justice! Enjoy! </p>
<p>And to show my age: R&amp;R are must appreciated!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The forest was silent save for the pounding of her feet on the hard earth, breaking the fallen twigs along the well-worn path. Would he follow it? Would she even be able to make her way silently through the forest if she abandoned the familiar way? Somewhere behind her, somewhere too close, a branch snapped. Could she hide? Collette veered off the path and into the trees, flinching as an errant branch caught her cheek, another her arm. She could hear the river now, and knew she was close. If she could get across the river, perhaps she could hide in the forest there; it was more rocky and filled with better hiding spots she knew from her childhood games.</p>
<p>The burning in her lungs forced her to stop, leaning against a large tree to catch her breath. Her heart beat in her ears and she doubled over gasping for breath. But her rest was short lived. “I know you’re here.” He called out, “I can smell your fear, little one.” A branch crunched to her left, so she turned to the right and ran straight into a solid mass. She couldn’t hold back the scream as Rogers grasped her arm, keeping her upright. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, little one.” He was all condescension and she took off in the opposite direction. Now, it didn’t matter where she ran as long as she could get away.</p>
<p>Behind her, a long howl echoed through the forest.</p>
<p>She took off again, staggering and tripping, running blindly toward what she hoped was safety. Between the trees, the flicker of a campfire caught her attention and she turned, lungs burning as she neared it. There was another howl, this one closer, and she emerged into a small clearing before staggering to a sudden stop. The two figures who sat around the fire stood, one moving to demand an explanation when another howl sounded. He drew a sword and stepped around the fire, turning his gaze to the dark forest. The second man followed and ushered the girl away from the tree line.</p>
<p>The swordsman turned silently, eyes scanning the forest for any movement when he paused, his gaze narrowing just over her shoulder. There was a flash of movement and the swordsman pushed past and swung, his blade connecting with a wolf as it dove out of the darkness. It rolled to its feet and shook off the strike, though in the low light, its blood left a dark stain on its fair fur. It couldn’t be a real wolf; it stood nearly as tall as the swordsman, bright, blue eyes reflecting in the moonlight. Its growl echoed through the clearing as it watched the swordsman, baring its teeth. The swordsman tensed his hands on the hilt, the movement barely noticeable, but the wolf saw it and charged, forcing the swordsman back, but not for long as he swung, knocking the creature away.</p>
<p>The other man pulled her back, his arms holding her close as the swordsman battled. The swordsman struck one, two, three blows and the wolf staggered back, but before he could attack, the swordsman thrust his blade through the wolf’s throat. With a grunt, he pulled the sword back and the wolf fell before shuddering for a moment only for its huge body to shrink. There, on the ground, lay a man, naked and bloody and lifeless. “Fucking lycanthrope.” The swordsman grunted, wiping his brow as he surveyed the tree line once more. Satisfied with the silence, he turned back to the fire and turned to the woman expectantly. “Well?”</p>
<p>But she was frozen, staring at the corpse only feet away. The young man slowly turned her to face the swordsman, encouraging her to sit and drink from a bottle he offered. She sat, though she kept glancing back at the corpse. “Don’t worry. He’s dead.”</p>
<p>“What was that thing? Or should I say who?” The young man turned toward the swordsman, taking the bottle back to drink deeply.</p>
<p>“Lycanthrope.” The swordsman replied with a sneer. “Why was it chasing you?”</p>
<p>She shivered as he fixed his gaze on her; his bright golden eyes glowed in the firelight, as if gazing into her very soul. “I don’t know. He was part of a group that came into my village. He followed me into the forest. I don’t know why.”</p>
<p>“Why were you in the forest so late?”</p>
<p>“I needed herbs. My brother has a fever that won’t break and it’s our last hope.”</p>
<p>The young man spoke up. “There’s more than one?” She nodded.</p>
<p>“There were two others in his group. I don’t know if they’re all… like him, but something is off with them. They’ve taken over the inn and – and one of them is making people do strange things!” The young man offered her the bottle again and she accepted, wiping at her eyes.</p>
<p>“Making people do things?” The swordsman asked and she nodded. “What do they want?”</p>
<p>“They demanded to see our mage. They stand outside the tower and shout for him to come down, but he never does.” The swordsman hummed, staring into the fire as one hand rubbed the stubble that began to grow across his cheek. “I need to get back! I need to get those herbs!”</p>
<p>“Just wait one moment,” the younger man said, resting his hand on her arm. “Geralt? What is it?”</p>
<p>Geralt, the swordsman, shut his eyes, a quiet <em>fuck</em> leaving his lips before standing. “Describe them.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Describe them. What do they look like?” She almost protested, her brother was ill! But the intensity of his gaze made her stop.</p>
<p>“Two men, one woman, though I’ve heard there’s a third man who stays hidden.” She said. “The man in charge, he’s got dark hair. They say he calls himself the White Wolf.” Geralt cursed again. “Why? You know them?”</p>
<p>“I know of them.”</p>
<p>“Geralt?” The young man asked, watching his companion stand. “Geralt are we helping her?”</p>
<p>“I don’t have much coin,” Collette offered, “But I have food, and a place to stay for as long as you like. We can mend your armor, feed your horse, whatever it is you need! If you can help, please!”</p>
<p>The swordsman sighed, pushing the hair from his face, earning an eye-roll from the young man. “Of course we’ll help you.” The young man replied, ignoring the glare from the swordsman. “I’m Jaskier. This is Geralt of Rivia, the <em>only</em> White Wolf.”</p>
<p>“Collette,” She replied. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t found you.”</p>
<p>“We’re always glad to help a damsel in need.” Jaskier replied with a small, yet dramatic bow which Collette found foolish, though in a strangely charming way.</p>
<p>“These are Ly- what?” She asked and Geralt nodded.</p>
<p>“Lycanthropes.” He replied. “Humans who can turn into a wolf. You said they attacked the village?” Collette nodded. “Tell me what happened.”</p>
<p> “That man, the White Wolf, showed up with two others demanding to speak to our mage.” Collette began.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>There was a chill in the air that morning and Collette pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders as she hurried through the village. She was late, but her brother had been sick for most of the night and she knew Mr. Rye would understand. But as she hurried into the bakery, a hush fell over the room. What normally was a bustling shop froze and Collette turned, watching as three figures appeared in the street, two men and one woman. The man in the middle seemed to be in charge, as he stood slightly ahead of the others. A sword hung at his side, the hilt peeking out from beneath a long, black cloak. Thick, leather armor covered his chest. His dark brown hair was half-tied back with a leather strap which only highlighted his high cheekbones and defined jaw. His gait alone demanded respect, if not submission. He was clearly a warrior, one men would fear to face on the battlefield.</p>
<p>To his right, a woman with bright, red hair braided down her back walked with her hand resting on her sword. She wore no cloak, but her thick, brown leather armor covered her torso and matching leather bracers surrounded her forearms. On her opposite hip, a smaller sheath was tucked into her belt holding a dagger. Danger seemed to emanate from every part of her; she was every bit the predator. The other man on his left also had a sword, but a shield rested on his back. With a neatly trimmed beard of dirty-blond hair, he appeared the rugged one of the trio. With sure steps, his broad shoulders showed his strength and confidence. Each observed their surroundings with frightening precision. Collette was frozen in the doorway as a pair of icy blue eyes met hers. Time seemed to pause for a moment as the leader turned, his plump lips curving into a sly grin. It was over within seconds, but the chill he’d given her lasted as she tucked into the bakery.</p>
<p>The other villagers who stopped by each had their own tale of the newcomers, some saying they’d been in the tavern, others that they’d been to the apothecary. But no matter who spoke, they all said the same thing: there was something about them, something just off enough to make their hair stand on end. By the time the sun was setting, Collette joined Mr. Rye as he closed for the evening and the two made their way down the main road. As always, they’d walk until the center of town and part ways, but as they approached, the sound of raised voices made them pause. Sharing a glance, they followed the noise until they reached the true center of town.</p>
<p>The mage’s tower was the center point for all business in the village; the stone tower rose a story above all other buildings though no door could be seen. The few windows were near the top of the tower and always shrouded in darkness. The newcomers stood before the tower, the leader glaring up at the highest window as if he was watching the mage, but the single window remained dark. The blond man argued with one of the shopkeepers, roughly shoving him back apparently unhappy with what he’d said. The dark-haired man grinned, then turned back to his companions and with a nod, they left. The villagers fell silent, watching in shock as they disappeared down the main road.</p>
<p>Collette hurried home.</p>
<p>The following day, the trio returned. They took their vigil outside of the mage’s tower once more and Collette paused as she passed. The red haired woman met her gaze, eyes analyzing her every move before turning away, finding her unimportant. But the brown-haired man remained staring up at the tower ignoring the goings on around him. The mage rarely came down from his tower, and on the rare occasion, only for emergencies. His groceries were paid for, the coins left on the small, wooden table beside the tower’s base. The grocer would leave the food in the evening, and it would be gone in the morning. The village didn’t know him too well, but when crops had failed from a strange frost he became a shadow in the night, disappearing into the fields. Although some crops had been lost, enough was salvageable to feed everyone and trade with the other villages. When an illness spread through the village one winter, he silently made his way from house to house, healing the incapacitated without a word. So they accepted his tower, and they lived in peace.</p>
<p>The trio returned for nearly two days after that.</p>
<p>There was a shout and Collette froze, watching as the blond struck the grocer, sending him to the ground. The brunet called out: “Mage! I know you’re there! I can <em>smell</em> you, you bastard!” But there was no response.</p>
<p>The red haired woman turned to the brunet. “Coward won’t even come down from his tower.” The brunet scoffed and nodded. After sharing a quiet word, they turned and disappeared down the street. The bakery was busy once more, though the gossip was more frightening than the previous days. Apparently, the trio had taken rooms at the inn. It seemed that they’d taken over entirely, the brunet making a throne of sorts in the tavern below. The innkeeper accepted their coin, but sent the female staff home as the group’s leering became worse. By the week’s end, only the innkeeper remained at his establishment.</p>
<p>“He calls himself The White Wolf,” the innkeeper said, stepping into the bakery one morning. “Bastard sits on his throne playing with a knife and drinking my damn ale as his cronies scare away my customers.”</p>
<p>The innkeeper reluctantly departed and returned to his business, fresh bread in hand. He grimaced as he entered, quickly making his way into the back with the fresh bread. The White Wolf, as he declared himself, sat in the largest chair, set back against the wall so he could watch the comings and goings. His group had changed the whole room; the tables and chairs were all rearranged as if they were holding their own court. The leader reclined on his chair while to right was the blonde, eyes surveying constantly. To his left, the woman lounged in a slightly smaller chair, her boots kicked up on the table as she cleaned her nails with a dagger. Movement on the stairs caught her attention and she shifted her bright, green gaze to the figure descending. “Hawk?”</p>
<p>“He’s there.” The new man said, swiping back an errant strand of sandy hair. “I saw his shadow no more than an hour ago.” The White Wolf hummed, scratching his beard.</p>
<p>“And he hasn’t come out?” Hawk shook his head. “The villagers left him groceries last night.”</p>
<p>“They disappeared shortly after they were dropped off.” The sandy-haired man crossed his arms, glancing back at the innkeeper as he returned to work behind the counter.</p>
<p>“He’s a damn coward.” The Wolf spat. “Talia?” The red-head twirled her dagger before sliding it back into the sheath in her boot. “Why don’t you work your… magic?” Talia grinned, her lips turning into a sharp point, and stalked out of the tavern.</p>
<p>She strolled down the street, her hips swaying as she took her time glancing at the villagers as they passed. They gave her a wide berth; even two men on horses moved out of the way, the animals had quickened their pace as she passed by. She was a predator, pure power. The village was small, but she walked the streets until she came across the perfect target. Leaning against the wall of the butcher’s shop, a young man dropped his head back, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he rested. Talia paused, assessing him, finding every weakness until she was satisfied. The man fell still, the prey inside of him recognizing the familiar sense of danger, and opened his eyes. It was as if she appeared before him, mirroring his posture: arms folded, hip jutting out to the side, hungry eyes sliding across every inch of him.</p>
<p>He followed her easily enough; she barely needed a glance to compel him much to the chagrin of the butcher. The Wolf looked pleased as she led him up into her room, shooting him a grin before disappearing, the man following dutifully behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wooh hoo! Chapter 2!! Thank you for sticking with me!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was gone in the morning, and the man stumbled out of the tavern, rubbing his forehead as what must have been a hangover pounded in his brain.</p>
<p>The Wolf looked on, pleased.</p>
<p>By the end of the week, half a dozen villagers, both men and women, filled the tavern. Talia reclined on her chair, feet propped on the back of one man who knelt on the hard, wooden floor. A woman held a goblet of wine, another beside her holding a full pitcher. They followed one evening, as she approached the tower, standing at the base, arms folded across her chest. A shadow crossed the highest window, lingering for a moment before disappearing. She raised an eyebrow in silent challenge and turned, sauntering away, leaving the group behind her. They seemed confused at first, but something changed, and they slowly turned to each other in understanding. Eyes clouded, they descended on one another, hands roaming and clothes tearing until they were naked, writhing against each other. Talia watched from down the street as she leaned against a nearby building, arms folded across her chest. It didn’t take long for the other villagers to realize what was happening, and she chuckled to herself as they continued to mindlessly writhe in pleasure despite the shouts and pulls of their loved ones.</p>
<p>She didn’t need to turn to know who approached from behind; his amusement fell from him in waves, satisfaction warming across her skin. “Rogers.”</p>
<p>“Enjoying yourself?”</p>
<p>A low chuckle sent goosebumps across her neck. “He’ll be happy.”</p>
<p>“Only if the coward shows himself.” She shrugged, feigning modesty, but she couldn’t help but be proud of the chaos she sewed. There was more crying, more shouting, and still the moans and heavy breathing continued.</p>
<p>“How long will you let this go on?”</p>
<p>She glanced back at the blonde who tilted his head as he watched the crowd only to chuckle at her shrug. “I want to see how long it will take for him to do something.”</p>
<p>“He’s grown softer. Innkeeper told me he heals the villagers when they’re sick.” He scoffed. “Apparently there was a bad drought a few years ago. He managed to save almost all the crops.”</p>
<p>“How <em>generous </em>of him,” Talia replied dryly. Rogers only hummed in agreement. They waited, watching in amusement as the villagers continued their pointless fight against waking those she’d charmed so thoroughly. It took nearly an hour until she noticed something move across a high window in the tower, nudging Rogers to catch his attention. The faintest shadow passed and something dropped from the window releasing a puff of blue mist as it fell. One by one, the mist covered them, slowly releasing them from their charm and the moans and sighs turning into fearful cries.</p>
<p>They weren’t surprised, and neither was The Wolf when they returned to the inn, reporting the mage’s reaction. He only sipped his ale, humming faintly in recognition. The mage had stopped Talia’s charm, but he knew there was more to come. Besides, The Wolf thought, he was enjoying the village thus far and wouldn’t mind spending more time there. He slowly dragged his gaze to the innkeeper who quickly ushered his daughter into the kitchen, narrowing his eyes at the intrusive stare. The Wolf only grinned. He was hungry.</p>
<p>The door burst open and Collette jumped up from where she knelt behind the counter in search of a dropped coin. The look on her mother’s face told her all she needed to know, and when Mr. Rye came around the corner, he nodded wordlessly for her to go. “What’s happened?”</p>
<p>“His fever’s returned,” her mother said, taking her hand as they rushed through the village. “He’s calling out for your father.”</p>
<p>“But-“</p>
<p>“The fever is making him delirious!” Collette reached for the door, but her mother stopped her, laying a hand on her daughter’s.</p>
<p>Her heart stopped. “No.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” Collette shook her head, but her mother only pulled her closer.</p>
<p>“There has to be a way to save him!”</p>
<p>She looked up at her mother, tears filling both of their eyes. “Collette, there is nothing else we can do.”</p>
<p>“The mage-“</p>
<p>“Is preoccupied with those… people.” Mother replied. “It’s not safe!”</p>
<p>“The herbs then? Do you have any left?” When her mother shook her head, Collette stepped back, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll get them.”</p>
<p>“It’s nearly nightfall!”</p>
<p>“I’ll take the lantern!” She was shaking, and though she hated the hurt look her mother gave her, she pushed away her fear. “I can’t lose him too!”</p>
<p>**</p>
<p>“Come on!” Rogers shouted, his sword in one hand, a tankard of ale in the other. “Is that all you’ve got?” His armor had long before been shed at the inn and he staggered across the dirt road, calling out insults as the village guard followed him.</p>
<p>“Please, sir,” one called, “please, go back to your room!”</p>
<p>Rogers pointed his sword at the boy, barely sixteen, as he chugged the last of the ale and tossed the tankard at him. His grip was loose, his legs wobbly, but the striking blue of his eyes were clear, taking in every detail of the guard. Two young men, barely twenty, and two older men, fifty at the youngest, flanked him on either side. He’d allowed them to think they had the upper hand, especially after his performance at the inn. He’d nearly drank an entire cask on his own, though it barely had any effect on him these days. But the village guard didn’t need to know that.</p>
<p>Their ignorance made it all the more fun.</p>
<p>“<em>Please go back to your room</em>!” Rogers taunted, his voice a shrill falsetto. “I’ll go where I damn well please!”</p>
<p>The guard flinched back at his retort, their swords raised, ready to defend. It was admirable, Rogers thought, but they’d never stand a chance. The rustle of chains caught his attention, and he wondered which of the men behind him held the irons that they’d try – and fail – to lock him in. It didn’t matter, he’d escape regardless.</p>
<p>But first, more fun.</p>
<p>He swung his sword at nothing in particular, releasing a loud growl before staggering down the street, grinning to himself as the guards ushered the late-night wanderers back into their homes. He planned on wandering about the village to see just how far the guards would go to restrain him, but an unfamiliar scent caught his attention as he turned down another street.</p>
<p>Fear.</p>
<p>Though it wasn’t fear of him. A lantern glowed lowly as a villager stepped outside, their cloak pulled up over their head. Neither the guards nor the villager noticed each other at first, but Rogers enjoyed their ignorance and stumbled closer, curious about the foolishly brave person who came out so late. The younger guard, one closest to the villager, rushed over, his hands grasping their shoulders.</p>
<p>“Miss Collette, please,” he said, pulling her back toward her home. “Please, you must go back inside. It’s not safe.”</p>
<p>The woman, whose face he could now clearly see, only shook her head. “I cannot. The fever is getting worse!”</p>
<p>“Please-“</p>
<p>Rogers let out a long whistle, twirling his sword as he made his way closer, but the guard approached, blocking his path to the woman who took off behind the house and into the woods. Collette could feel his stare bore through her, but she refused to look back; she hoped the guards could subdue the drunk man soon. Rogers grinned, the sharp glint of his fangs illuminated in the dim torch light. Oh, her fear smelled so sweet. Perhaps, he thought, he would go for a hunt tonight.</p>
<p>“Sir, please return to the inn!” One of the older guards called, and Rogers turned quicker than they’d anticipated, freezing the in their steps.</p>
<p>“No, I don’t think I will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Collette shuddered at the feel of his gaze; she didn’t need to turn back to know he was watching her. Who were these people? And why did they harass their village? It didn’t matter, not at that moment. No, she needed the herbs. Her mother had used the last of them shortly after she returned home from the bakery, allowing her to speak to her brother for a short while. The herbs gave him a chance to break the fever, and though it was a small chance, she had to take it. She could not bear to lose another to the same fever.</p>
<p>The forest, of course, was dark though slits of moonlight pierced through the treetops. The herbs grew an hour’s trek from her home and though she knew the way, she held tightly to her lantern. The forest was dangerous at night, and the stranger’s stare still caused her unease. Nevertheless, she continued on. So deep in thought, she didn’t notice how silent the forest had grown, the crickets and owls ceasing their calls until all she could hear was her own heartbeat.</p>
<p>A low growl caught her attention and she turned, coming face to face with the drunk man from the village. “Lost, little one?” She staggered back, stunned. How did he find her? How did she not hear him coming? “The woods are dangerous at night.” His lips pulled back in a sharp grin, elongated canines sending a shock of fear down her spine.</p>
<p>“Go- go away!” She shouted, her voice breaking, but he only laughed.</p>
<p>One huge hand grasped the collar of her cloak and pulled her close, the lantern falling from her grasp. “Are you afraid, little one?”</p>
<p>“I – I…”</p>
<p>“I want you to do something for me. Do you think you can?” He asked, prompting her to nod. “Good girl. I want you to run.”</p>
<p>He released her and she stumbled back. “What?”</p>
<p>His grin grew impossibly wider as he leaned in, his hot breath tickling her ear. “Run.”</p>
<p>No sooner had he said the word, she was running down the familiar path, her now torn cloak falling to the ground behind her. She knew the way to the herbs, but there was no telling if she’d make it there, let alone back home.</p>
<p>She had to try.</p>
<p>The forest was silent save for the pounding of her feet on the hard earth, breaking the fallen twigs along the well-worn path. Would he follow it? Would she even be able to make her way silently through the forest if she abandoned the familiar way? Somewhere behind her, somewhere too close, a branch snapped. Could she hide? Collette veered off the path and into the trees, flinching as an errant branch caught her cheek, another her arm. She could hear the river now, and knew she was close to the herbs. If she could get across the river, perhaps she could hide in the forest there; it was more rocky and filled with better hiding spots she knew from her childhood games.</p>
<p>The burning in her lungs forced her to stop, leaning against a large tree to catch her breath. Her heart beat in her ears and she doubled over gasping for breath. But her rest was short lived. “I know you’re here.” He called out, “I can smell your fear, little one.” A branch crunched to her left, so she turned to the right and ran straight into a solid mass. She couldn’t hold back the scream as Rogers grasped her arm, keeping her upright. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, little one.” He was all condescension and she took off in the opposite direction. Now, it didn’t matter where she ran as long as she could get away.</p>
<p>Behind her, a long howl echoed through the forest.</p>
<p>**</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The swordsman sighed, pushing the hair from his face, earning an eye-roll from the young man. “Of course we’ll help you.” The young man replied, ignoring the glare from the swordsman. “I’m Jaskier. This is Geralt of Rivia, the only White Wolf.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Collette,” She replied. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t found you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We’re always glad to help a damsel in need.” Jaskier replied with a small, yet dramatic bow which Collette found foolish, though in a strangely charming way. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“These are Ly- what?” She asked and Geralt nodded. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Lycanthropes.” He replied. “Humans who can turn into a wolf. You said they attacked the village?” Collette nodded. “Tell me what happened.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “That man, the White Wolf, showed up with two others demanding to speak to our mage.” Collette began.</em>
</p>
<p>“There’s a woman and two men, though I’ve heard of another man who stays hidden.” Collette took a drink, though she didn’t return the skin. “She made people do <em>things </em>in the middle of the market. They’re trying to get to our mage, though I don’t know why. The other man, the one who was the lycanthrope, he was wandering the village, just taunting our guard. He followed me-“</p>
<p>Jaskier rubbed her back, glancing at Geralt who stared into the fire, his mind far away. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”</p>
<p>“And the other man? Who is he?”</p>
<p>“He calls himself The White Wolf.” Geralt scoffed and Jaskier gasped, his hand pressed over his chest in outrage.</p>
<p>“The White Wolf?” he asked and she nodded. “No, no, no, there is only one White Wolf and he is sitting before you!”</p>
<p>“Now is not the time, <em>bard</em>,” Geralt spat. “What does he look like?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Collette clutched the basket close to her chest as she hurried down the street. The fresh scent of bread wafted from the woven carrier setting her stomach off in a low grumble. She hadn’t had time to break her fast that morning and she wondered if Mr. Rye would let her swipe something for herself when she returned. Delivering the bread to the elderly was an easy trip, one she once enjoyed until the three strangers had appeared in the village. Now, everyone was on edge when they emerged from their homes. When the final loaf was delivered, she hurried back to the bakery but froze when she spotted one of the strangers outside the door.</p>
<p>Dark hair tied at the base of his neck, the stranger glanced up between the strands of hair that had escaped the bun. She felt his cold, steely gaze follow her as she passed, scurrying into the bakery and into the back. She found Mr. Rye kneading dough, humming to himself as he worked. “You’re back early.”</p>
<p>She motioned toward a roll and he nodded. “One of the strangers was outside. Why are they here?”</p>
<p>“Wish I knew.” He shook his head. “You be careful going out.”</p>
<p>“You walk me home in the evenings,” Collette replied, “I’m okay in the morning.”</p>
<p>“How’s your brother?” She only shook her head. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“Mother says not to call the mage. That these strangers are looking for him and it’s too dangerous.” Thoughtfully, she chewed the fresh roll. “I’ll carry him to the tower myself if he could just help! Mr. Rye, I can’t lose him too.”</p>
<p>He moved to speak, but the quiet jingle of the bell over the door signaled a customer and she placed her roll down before grabbing her apron. As she tied the fabric across her dress, she called out: “What can I –“ It was the stranger, the White Wolf. She knew he’d been seen in different shops, but it was his lackeys that gathered most of whatever food or supplies they needed. The cloak was gone as was his armor; the only evidence of his violent nature was the sword still strapped to his waist. The cold that shot through her veins at his glance froze her in place and she swallowed hard as he twirled a dagger between his fingers. The movement seemed as natural as breathing and hypnotized her for a moment, the smooth twirl of the blade a beautiful and dangerous dance. He grinned, watching intently as her throat shifted, her chest raised as her breathing quickened.</p>
<p>He knew the moment she saw it, her eyes focusing on the bright silver that was his arm. Although his tunic was long-sleeved, it wasn’t easy to hide and he truly didn’t care much who saw it. “I’d like three loaves.” With a quick movement, the dagger was sheathed at his hip and he placed a few coins on the counter. She nodded mutely and gathered the requested bread, and wrapped it quickly in paper. It was placed on the counter before him, her hands fisting her apron as he winked and disappeared out into the street.</p>
<p>“Collette?” Mr. Rye called from the back, pulling her from her stupor. “Who was there?”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“A silver arm?” Jaskier asked and the woman nodded. “Geralt?”</p>
<p>The witcher hummed to himself before standing. “Jaskier, make sure she gets back to town safely.”</p>
<p>“You won’t help us?”</p>
<p>“I need to go to the next town,” Geralt replied. “Here, take this to your brother. It’ll break his fever.” He tossed a small bottle at her, nodding when she caught it.</p>
<p>“Thank you!”</p>
<p>He hummed. “<em>Do not</em> mention us, me especially. You made it back safe, you weren’t chased by a lycanthrope. Can you do that?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she nodded vehemently. She handed the skin of water back to the bard who placed it back into Roach’s saddlebag. There was a hushed few words shared between the companions as Geralt mounted the horse and took off into the woods. Together, Collette and Jaskier smothered the fire, ensuring no embers were left before making their way back to the village. Thankfully, they were nearby the river so she knew almost exactly where she was.</p>
<p>The night was still dark when they arrived at her home, Jaskier electing to remain outside, hidden behind the small garden in the back of the house. Her mother was asleep by her brother’s bedside, and she carefully uncorked the potion and poured it into his mouth, offering a prayer to whatever deity would listen that he’d make it through the night. Now empty, she stuffed the vial into an old chest in her room. Her brother would break the fever himself, at least that’s what her mother would say. And that’s precisely happened when morning came. A tumble down the hill explained the scratches on her face and arms as well as her missing cloak and lantern. And though she desperately wanted to stay with her family, she knew that she needed to make her way to Mr. Rye’s for her daily work.</p>
<p>Her mind was back in the woods wondering where Jaskier was and what Geralt was doing. Did he really go to another town for supplies? Or did Jaskier deliver her back home only for them to continue on their journey? The kind yet dramatic bard helped to calm her, but the golden gaze of the witcher, the sword beside him, put her truly at ease. With her brother healed, she focused on the strangers. Collette handed another customer their bread when suddenly she remembered: the lycanthrope – he was one of the strangers. Surely they’d notice his absence by now! A cold sweat broke out across her neck and she swayed on her feet for a moment. Would they know she had something to do with it? How could they? The questions and doubts warred in her mind. No, there was no way they could know about her.</p>
<p>Right?</p>
<p>“Miss?” A voice pulled her from her stupor and she smiled, offering an apology as she continued with her work. She’d keep her head down, work, and head home. That’s all she needed to focus on. The witcher would be back. He had to.</p>
<p>**</p>
<p>The White Wolf reclined on the old chair, his boots raised on the table before him. Talia had come down from her room late, her night occupied by a young couple whose families forbade their marriage. As the couple descended the stairs, blinking back the hazy memories of the night, Talia chuckled. But Rogers hadn’t come down yet. The Wolf’s favorite blade twirled in his grip, the steady movement calming as he pondered. Rogers had slept late before, but something felt off. He’d seen him stumbling “drunk” throughout the village before he went to sleep, chuckling at his friend’s stupid pranks. He’d always enjoyed combat and what better way to draw out the guards than by acting the fool?</p>
<p>“What troubles you?” The Wolf stilled, the daggers sliding smoothly into its sheath.</p>
<p>“Have you seen Rogers?” She shook her head and he hummed.</p>
<p>“He likes to sleep in,” Talia replied. “I heard he had a late night.”</p>
<p>Neither the Wolf nor Talia seemed convinced. She rose and ascended the stairs in search of their companion. But when she came running down moments later, the Wolf knew his instincts had been right. Rogers was gone. It was late enough in the day for him to have staggered back if he’d spent the night elsewhere, so either the guards had – unlikely – subdued him, or someone had succeeded in hurting him. Talia was quick to check with the guards who, she reported, were injured but without their companion. The Wolf smelled trouble, and he didn’t like it. Schooling his features, he rose, attached his sword to his belt, and went for a walk through the village.</p>
<p>Something was off, he could smell it in the air, but what was it? The answer was just out of his reach, the memories too far away to remember, but he’d smelled the scent before. He didn’t like it then and certainly didn’t now. The shops were clear of the scent, and there was still no sign of Rogers. But as he passed the same woman from the bakery, his hair stood on end. It was her. She was the source of the smell. He watched her, took in the unsettling scent as she scurried away from him. She knew something.</p>
<p>Damn, Collette thought, that stranger, the Wolf, was outside the bakery again! It wasn’t bad enough that she had to run away from his friend, but the way he looked at her was different than the appraising glare she’d received the other day. No, this was hunger. This was suspicion. But how could he know? Just as before, she scurried away and finished her work. Mr. Rye was kind enough to take the Wolf’s order and later walk her home, even popping his head inside to give her mother and brother his best wishes on his recovery. The fever had broken and while he was still weak, there was hope. She wouldn’t lose him, not yet! They pulled their chairs beside the bed and shared a dinner of warm stew and fresh bread. It felt as if ages had passed since they could enjoy dinner together. She managed to sneak Jaskier a bowl as well, though he reclined against a tree with his own food he’d purchased earlier.</p>
<p>“Don’t be sorry,” he waved off her apology. “I’m waiting for Geralt and I need to work on a new song anyway. This village is quaint and I’m enjoying the quiet time while it lasts.”</p>
<p>But there was a pounding on her door, and she bid her mother stay with her brother as she answered. And thank the gods she did. Standing at the door was the Wolf, and she quickly pushed it shut only to be shoved back, the door bouncing against the wall. He took up nearly the whole doorway, casting his long shadow across the floor as he took in the small home. A voice like gravel, angry and wild growled: “Where is he?”</p>
<p>“What?” Collette stumbled to her feet, trying to block his way further into the home, but he easily pushed her away and made his own inspection. Talia appeared behind him, holding Collette in place as he tore open the doorway into the bedroom, drawing screams of surprise from her family. Rogers’ absence in the home angered him; he could smell him on the girl along with something else. This had to be the mage’s doing. Only that wretched man could manipulate someone so weak from his tower. Talia held the woman as the Wolf approached, bearing over her.</p>
<p>“My companion, the other man who was with me. Where. Is. He?” He’d moved too close, their noses nearly touching, but she only shook her head.</p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Tears welled in her eyes as she shook, but his gaze bore into her and there was fear, but not all of it was for her or her family’s lives. No, there was something else there. One large hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her out of the home and onto the street, roughly dragging her toward the center of town.</p>
<p>She stumbled to her knees before the mage’s tower as the wolf shouted: “Mage! You think yourself so clever! What have you done with him?” Between her cries and the Wolf’s shouts, the villagers were drawn outside, children pushed back into hiding by their parents. “Come on, you coward!” He pulled her up by her arm and drew the dagger, letting the tip just barely touch against her throat. But before he could continue, a breeze caught the scent and he pushed his nose into the crook of her neck, growling when he finally recognized it.</p>
<p>Witcher.</p>
<p>“Did you call one?” The Wolf shouted, “Did you call a witcher to do your dirty work?” There was no answer yet again, so he turned to the girl, his warm breath puffing across her ear. “Hm? Did you call a witcher? Did you find one to save you?” She shook her head, crying out a no, but he only growled. “I can smell it on you. I can smell Rogers and I can smell that mutant on you. What did you do to him?” She was shaking now, her hands grasping at his arm, too terrified to speak. He sheathed his dagger and pulled her away, returning to the inn where he shoved her to the floor. Talia followed shortly after, nodding as he commanded: “Bind her.” She tried to run, but the woman had her wrists tied before she could move. The villagers shouted in protest but received no response as she was dragged back to the inn. Collette surveyed the room, her eyes meeting those of the innkeeper who could only express his sadness silently. They had cleared the room, moving the tables and chairs to create a pseudo-throne room for the Wolf who reclined as he watched the girl. She stood on shaking legs as she cried: “Please, I don’t know anything!”</p>
<p>With a tug, he pulled her closer and grasped her wrists until they were face to face. “I can smell him on you. A witcher. And Rogers. What. Happened. To. Him?” She choked on a sob, tears soaking her face as she shook her head. She couldn’t say, not unless she wanted to die! Still unsatisfied he released her, nodding for her to sit on the stool he used for his feet. He knew she was lying, there was no other explanation for the scents. But if she didn’t want to confess, he’d gladly wait for the mutant to find him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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